


The Prince, The Fox, & The Clown

by Magnetic_Stars



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Stalking behavior, Trick or Treating, just a wacky little story, mentions of The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, occasional use of profanity, slight harrassement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27191947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetic_Stars/pseuds/Magnetic_Stars
Summary: Anna, while busy babysitting a six-year-old girl on Halloween, stumbles into a reunion she least expected to take place.*Once again, this is another standalone story I whipped up for fun that involves my OC from my main Gotham fic. It has nothing to do with my other fic and doesn't effect its plot at all. If you're following my main fic and feel like this story would confuse you, then simply bookmark it for later ;)*
Relationships: Jerome Valeska/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With Halloween creeping up in a few days, I felt like exploring Gotham a bit during this time of year. Hope you enjoy!

While waiting outside of a classy-looking apartment in Gotham’s uptown region, people of all ages roam the streets in whacky costumes. Just when you think Gotham can’t get any wackier, BOOM! Halloween shows up. Of course, I’m not really one to talk since I, too, am dressed in a whacky costume. I had no choice. I promised Rosemary I would.

Right on time, the little six-year-old girl exits her building holding her mother’s hand. She’s wearing a brown onesie with a luscious fluffy tail and a foxlike headpiece sitting atop her curly blonde hair. The second the girl catches sight of me, she wriggles out of her mother’s hold and skips to me.

“Anna! You wore the costume! You’re the Little Prince!”

I laugh and look down at the ridiculous green cape that cascades over my shoulders and sweeps to the ground around my boots. A plastic sword is securely strapped against my waist along with a small red rose which I’d plucked on my way here.

“I told you I would. You look really great as the Fox, Rosemary.”

“Rosie!” the little girl snaps back at me. “My name is Rosie!”

“Sorry, sorry. Rosie,” I correct with a reserved smile.

Rosie’s mother helplessly shakes her head. “Thank you for doing this, Anna,” she tells me earnestly. “I would’ve taken her trick or treating myself, but she’s really been asking for you, you know?”

“I really don’t mind,” I reply. “I’m happy to do it. We’re gonna have loads of fun.”

Her mother grins at me before she bends down to address her daughter.

“Now you behave, young lady. Don’t give Anna a hard time or else she’ll bring you right home. Understand, Rosemary?”

Annoyed, the girl huffs. “I’ll be a good girl,” she grumbles. “And my name is Rosie.”

Her mother laughs dismissively. “Alright, alright, Rosie. Go and have fun.”

“I’ll take good care of her,” I assure before taking Rosie’s hand and joining the flow of people down the sidewalk.

“Rosemary is such an old name,” Rosie complains. A small frown nestles itself between her light brows.

“I think it’s beautiful,” I tell her honestly.

She scoffs. “It’s a _plant_. It’s not fair. Just because it was grandma’s name doesn’t mean it has to be mine too.”

“I know how you feel. Believe me, I do.”

Rosie casts me an unconvinced look. “No you don’t.”

“Of course I do. I’ll tell you a secret if you promise to keep it to yourself.”

The girl perks up with delight. “I’m great with secrets.”

“Alright. I was named after my grandmother, too.”

Rosie stops walking, causing me to stagger into a halt. The excitement in her eyes begins to wane, making way for confusion.

“But Anna’s a nice name. It doesn’t count if it’s a nice name.”

A persistent smirk grows on my face. “You think so? Well, my real name is Suzanna, and you would not believe how hard I fought to stop people from calling me that.”

“Suzanna!” Rosie squeaks in astonishment.

“Shhh,” I hush in exaggeration. “Keep it secret! Just remember that Rosemary, at least, is way cooler than Suzanna.”

Rosie grins widely, revealing her deep dimples and front missing tooth. She zips her mouth closed and throws the key over her shoulder before taking my hand again and proceeding to walk.

I’m not generally a big fan of kids, but I really like this one. She’s funny, and I tend to like funny people.

The sea of trick or treaters on the streets mimic the crashing waves on a stormy day, and now Rosie and I only contribute to their powerful currents. She’s leading me more than I’m leading her, but I don’t mind. She’s overwhelmed by the spooky decorations, by the crowd, by the prospect of candy, and I fully let her live in this immersive experience. Every six-year-old kid should know how this feels.

“ _Pssst._ ”

I jump, sensing someone talking into my ear. Whipping my head around over my shoulder, I see no one that I recognize, but I still potently feel the chill riding up my back and warm breath continues to linger at my ear. I didn’t imagine it, but I don’t have time to investigate the source of the whisper as Rosie pulls me towards a herd of kids lining behind a number of townhouses. As she readies her sack, she throws me a questioning look.

“Where are you going to put your candy?” she asks, eyeing my empty hands.

I shrug off the slight scare I’d just had and note it off as just the harmless breeze wisping through my hair.

“People don’t give candy to adults.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Why not? You’re wearing a costume.”

Ah, the innocence.

“You know what? You’re totally right. Excellent argument.”

She straightens up and grins proudly before joining in the rest of the kids with a loud ‘trick or treat!’ when a woman opens her door. I stand back with the waiting parents, smirking as Rosie pushes her way to the front and plasters on her best smile.

“Oh my,” commends the woman. “What an adorable little fox. I suppose you ought to get an extra piece.”

I can only imagine the mental dance this girl is having in her head.

We stop by two other townhouses and Rosie makes sure to get as much attention as possible. As we walk down the street again, she distractedly counts the candy in her bag. I keep a hand on her shoulder, steering her to stop her from bumping into people.

“Just twelve pieces,” she complains. “I can’t go home unless I have a full sack!”

I can’t help chuckling. “Patience, Fox. We’ve only just started.”

“ _Pssst_ ,”

My head whips back faster than the first time. This must be some kid playing a bad prank, what with it being Halloween and everyone hiding behind the anonymity of a mask. I glare at the unfamiliar kids walking behind me, but they show no interest in me whatsoever. Something feels wrong. The air is thicker, heavy with tension. I feel like I’m being watched, or worse, followed.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been spooked, not since a psychotic maniac broke into my apartment and – no. I shake my head vigorously. Now is not the time to relive such convoluted memories, not when I’m babysitting a six-year-old on Halloween. My mind is playing tricks on me and that’s that.

Huffing irritably, I steer Rosie away from the suspicious kids and walk where there’s fewer people. I don’t like this; I’m beginning to feel anxious. The last thing I need tonight is to be getting paranoid over nothing.

“We have to go to Mrs. Perez’s bakery,” Rosie then insists. “She always gives me extra candy, plus pumpkin-shaped cookies!”

“Yeah, okay,” I say absently, unable to stop myself from looking over my shoulder every now and then,

As expected, a que of kids stands waiting outside the bakery. It’s loud, crowded, and overwhelming, especially now since I’ve been shaken twice so soon in the night. Rosie is completely unfazed by my sudden quietness as she starts talking to me about something related to school… or her friends? I’m not sure. It’s getting hard to pay attention.

“What a cute fox!” says Mrs. Perez, a middle-aged woman in a She-Frankenstein costume. While Rosie blushes as though it’s the first time she’d received that compliment, Mrs. Perez shifts her gaze to me. “Oh. And you must be Peter Pan.”

Great. All this trouble of finding a green cape and I simply get dubbed as Peter Pan. It’s my dark hair, I know it. Probably should’ve purchased a blonde wig.

“I’m the Little Prince, actually. You can distinguish me by my toy sword and withering rose,” I say, gesturing to my belt.

“I see,” says Mrs. Perez, drawing her brows together in confusion. “Should’ve worn a wig, hun.”

I sigh. “Thank you, I know.”

As Rosie and I walk away after she gets her treats, she sends me a timid look.

“You don’t like your costume, do you? You didn’t have to be the Little Prince just for me.”

My mouth pulls into a smile. It causes the tension around my bones to unwind. “Well, it just so happens I’m quite fond of the tale of The Little Prince. Although, I _am_ curious about one thing. Why didn’t you want to be The Prince? He’s more your age, isn’t he? And it’s his story, not the Fox’s.”

“Oh. Well, mom says that The Prince has a lot to figure out in life. He’s very unsure and lost and lonely. But me,” she says, looking at me with a bright grin, “I’m very sure, not lost, and not lonely at all. And besides, I like foxes. They’re cute. Didn’t you hear what everyone’s been saying about my costume?”

_Unsure. Lost. And lonely._

Huh.

Ouch.

I would’ve liked it had she just stuck with “ _because foxes are cute_ ”.

_‘Pssst,’_

That fucking does it.

I whirl around and glare daggers at the little kids walking behind me in various costumes of ghosts, monsters, and witches.

“Alright you squirts. _Very funny._ How’d you like it if I follow you around and go ‘pssst’, ‘pssst’ in your ears all night-long?” Startled, the kids blink at me dumbfoundedly. Not one of them utters a single word and that only makes me angrier. “I swear I’ll do it if you don’t quit and we’ll see how funny you’ll find it then. What do you say to that?”

They stay quiet, staring at me like they’re shocked that I’m even talking to them at all. _Ugh, kids._ It’s all fun and games until they get caught. One nudges the other before the entire group scurries away from me in the opposite direction. Relieved, I straighten up and feel myself relax. I’ve never spoken to kids like that before, not even when they’re loud in the cinema or rude at the supermarket, but those bunch were really getting on my nerve. At least now Rosie and I can finish our rounds in peace.

Turning to where Rosie stands, a gasp spills past my lips and my heart sinks to my stomach like a rock.

Rosie stares at me with a sneer, clearly in response to my little speech to those scurrying kids. Standing next to her, however, mimicking her same expression, is none other than Jerome Valeska. Dressed in Arkham’s black-and-white uniform, he is completely unclad to the world, and the scars that slice into his face don’t make it any better for him to _not_ stand out. He’s out in public with no means of camouflage like a complete idiot.

“What did you do that for, Anna?” Rosie asks me.

Jerome’s eyes crinkle with unveiled amusement. “Boy, you said it, kid. What d’ya do that for, _Anna-ah_?” Then. his eyes rake over my form before a slithering smile finds its way to his mouth. “Well now. Don’t you look nice tonight.”

All at once, my shock wears off and makes room for rising fury. Quickly, I reach for Rosie and pull her over to my side, away from the criminal who’s seemingly out begging for trouble.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, voice tight. “Is this your idea of fun? Following me around and pestering me like a child?”

A hushed smile forms around his mouth. His head cocks to one side as he watches me simmer under his gaze. “Hmm. Wouldn’t you like to know. Can’t a friend drop by for a quick hello?”

“Not when he’s-“ I catch myself and lower my voice so that Rosie doesn’t hear. “Not when he’s recently escaped Arkham again only to get involved in all sorts of illegal shenanigans.”

Feigning offense, Jerome sets a hand over his wounded heart. “You make me sound so one dimensional, Anna. I’m hurt. It would, perhaps, thrill you to know that I have no other intention than to catch up with a stubborn girl whom I oh-so adore. I’ll give you a hint,” he says, lips twitching into a wicked little smirk. “You know her _incredibly_ well.”

I plaster on a sickly-sweet smile. “Good luck finding her then and send her my regards. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

I turn on my heal and quicken my pace, tugging Rosie along with me.

“Who was that?” she asks me, panting.

“Someone annoying,” I grumble back, taking as many complicated turns as possible in hopes to lose him.

“Your friend?”

I scoff loudly, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of City Hall. “He is _not_ my friend.”

“Aren’t I, Anna?”

My eyes roll to the back of my head before I turn to address the man who I now believe is capable of teleporting.

“No, you’re not,” I bite back. “What do you want? And for God’s sake,” I hiss, leaning a little into him. “Why the hell aren’t you wearing a disguise? If your plan is to get caught tonight then, please, be my guest, but I do not want Rosie and I to be affiliated with you.”

Jerome gives me a dry look. “You’re as slow as ever, aren’t you. Firstly,” he says, counting on his gloved fingers, “I already told you what I want. I miss you, stupid, and I wanted to see you. And secondly, I _am_ in disguise, or rather, in costume.” Taking a step back from me, he stretches his arms out wide and grins. “I’m Jerome Valeska, a homicidal maniac who’s broken out of Arkham. Get it?”

Damn it, I _do_ get it, and for that reason I involuntarily laugh. This is why I sometimes feel like there’s something terribly wrong with me, because I know how to distinguish between what is right and wrong, and yet I just can’t help laughing in response to him. Jerome makes me laugh, he always has, and ignoring my source for laughter is not as easy as I would like it to be.

A grin swells onto Jerome’s face as he straightens up proudly. That fond smile, those gentle eyes, that fiery hair… it’s been so long since I’ve last seen him. I’ve forgotten the man behind the gruesome scars…

“Fine, that’s clever,” I admit begrudgingly. “But still, you shouldn’t be out here.”

Closing the gap between us, his eyes bore into mine. “Worried about me? I’m touched”

“More like worried about Rosie and myself. I have a job to do, Jerome, I’m babysitting. So, really, nice seeing you again but goodbye.”

I freeze when Jerome suddenly turns to Rosie and kneels before her until they’re eye-to-eye with each other. Subconsciously, my hold tightens on Rosie’s shoulder, not knowing what to expect from the deranged man who’s smiling like he actually means it.

What the hell does he think he’s doing?

“Hi,” he says amiably.

Rosie ducks her chin shyly. “Hello,” she returns.

“I like your costume. Do you like mine?”

Rosie scans her eyes over his face, tilting her head from side-to-side to get his full profile. Then, she gives a decisive nod. “Yes. It’s scary.”

A laugh bubbles out of him like rippling water. “What a compliment! You must be Rosie, huh? Such a charming name. I’m Jerome, heard of me? I bet Anna just talks about me all the time for hours.”

I roll my eyes violently, causing Jerome to bite back a smirk.

Rosie ponders at the question for a few seconds. “Anna doesn’t talk about boys.”

“Anna is boring,” he mumbles, sending me a side eye before shifting his attention back to the girl. “Say, kiddo. Is it cool with you if I join you and Little Miss Babysitter here on your quest for candy? If you agree, I promise to give you every piece of candy I earn.”

“Hey,” I snap. “Don’t you go putting ideas in her he-“

“Shhh,” he waves me off. “Can’t hear you. Having a serious discussion here.”

“But,” Rosie starts, brows furrowing in thought. “Anna said that adults don’t get any candy, even if they’re wearing costumes.”

Jerome snorts. “Lesson One on things you must know about Anna: She’s lame and doesn’t even know it.”

“Alright, enough,” I say eyes glaring into his dancing ones. “For once in your life, Jerome, quit being stubborn and learn to take ‘no’ for an answer. You are _not_ joining us.”

“But I want him to,” Rosie interjects, looking up at me pleadingly. “He said he’ll give me more candy.”

“Lesson One on things you must know about Jerome,” I say snidely. “He lies _constantly_.”

“Not to the people I like,” Jerome modestly retorts. “And I gotta say, Rosie, I like you quite a lot. Can I be your friend?”

The little girl giggles as though she’s being tickled and, immediately, I realize that I’ve lost. He’s won her over.

“Okay, I’ll be your friend. You can join us.”

“How very kind. I’m honored.” Jerome tips his imaginary hat at the girl before he straightens up. He presents me with a shit-eating grin I would simply love to slap off. “Looks like I’ve made a new friend. See how easy it is, Anna? Feel free to take notes.”

I fume at him. “Oh, shut up. That was manipulation.”

“Nothing of the sort. It was a transaction. Her friendship for my candy, a fair trade I would say. Wouldn’t you, Rosie?”

She eagerly nods. “Uh-huh.” Abruptly, her hand shoots out to grab Jerome’s and starts pulling him away from me and towards the townhouses we haven’t covered yet.

_Fuck. Shit. How have I let this happen?_

“Falling behind, Slowpoke!” Jerome calls to me from afar.

Muttering a string of curse words, I run to catch up. Nudging myself between them, I untangle their fingers and hold Rosie’s hand instead. Jerome quirks an amused brow at me.

“I’m the babysitter,” I tell him, voice hard. “This girl is _my_ responsibility and you will keep her out of trouble. If I sense people growing suspicious of you, then we’re ditching you before you can blink twice. Got it?”

Jerome sighs, actually seeming bored with me. “I’ve got more than one dimension, Anna. I didn’t come here to get you or my new best friend in trouble. I’ve missed you, even if you _are_ lame, and I know for a fact that you miss me too.”

I laugh indignantly, unable to keep it in. “Yeah? So sure of yourself?”

“ _Always_.”

“Always a pain-in-my-ass, that’s for sure,” I say under my breath. Jerome snickers in return, playfully checking my shoulder with his and damnit it makes me smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a continuation is in progress, and maybe not :)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and let me know what you think!
> 
> *Note: I swear I'm working on the last chapter for "Are You Going To Write Your Report About Me?'. It's taking a lot of hard work, and indulging in other side projects like this sometimes is like a breath of fresh air to me.


	2. Chapter 2

“There!” Rosie shrieks. “That house with all the lights! Kids at school say they give bucketloads of treats!”

She wriggles out of my hand, but I partially release her anyway. We’re not far from the house, and I’m keeping a close eye on her as she skips ahead excitedly. At my side, however, I am painfully aware of Jerome’s presence, how he’s perfectly keeping pace with me and slightly skimming his fingers along the edges of my flowing cape.

“Cute kid,” he comments casually. “Didn’t take you for the babysitter type.”

I shift uncomfortably. “It’s what any broke college student would do for some extra cash. But I like Rosie. Wouldn’t be spending so much time with her if I didn’t, not even for money.”

Jerome chuckles. “And yet you are.”

“Not tonight,” I say, shaking my head. “She sees me more as a friend than a babysitter. Tonight, we’re out as friends, no charge.”

Jerome raises his brows at me, a thoughtful look crosses his face. “What a noble thing to do.”

“I’m only being nice.”

He gives a gentle laugh. The sound of it rings like music in my ears.

“’Nice’ is a luxury not many people get to experience, take it from me. Nice is all it takes.”

Damn. This man has a depth to him I never fully understand. For someone so lacking in discipline and ethics, he remains incredibly perceptive and bizarrely rational when I least expect him to be. I stare at him in awe, unable to form a verbal response to him.

“Why Anna, have I blown you away?” he teases, still idly playing with my cape.

Annoyed, I yank it away from his fingers. “Stop fiddling with my costume.”

“What are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“The Little Prince. Obviously.”

“Obviously?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes. Are you even familiar with the tale?”

A smile curls the corner of his mouth. “The Prince who travels through time and space without a companion in search for a meaning of life. The Prince who holds nothing dearer to his heart than a single rose whom he cares for night and day. The Prince who, despite his outgoingness, is unsure, lost, and lonely no matter the people he meets and the places he visits.” His gaze shifts to me, measured and mellow. “Tragic, isn’t it?”

“It’s just a story,” I mumble, looking away from him. “An old one at that. Most old stories are tragic that way.”

“Hmm. As you say, your Majesty.” There’s a palpable smile in his voice. It makes my jaw clench, but it also makes my stomach flip. What a horrible, wonderful combination.

Rosie calls out to Jerome when she reaches the house first. Jerome, surprisingly, doesn’t keep her waiting. He takes longer strides and is at her side within seconds.

“You don’t have a sack,” Rosie speculates, a sliver of disappointment blatant in her voice.

Jerome grins. “Who needs a sack when you’ve got an oversized prison uniform?”

“Costume!” I correct urgently. “A prison _costume_.”

Jerome flicks his fingers at me dismissively. “Details.” Then, bunching up the front of his shirt, he holds it up like a makeshift mailsack. “Ready when you are, Fox.”

The girl jumps excitedly in her spot and rings the doorbell. A trickle of nervousness courses through my bloodstream in anticipation. Jerome has always told me that people are dumb and that I should never underestimate their dumbness, however looking at him right now, he is so obviously the nutjob criminal Gotham loves talking about all the time. To my eyes, at lease, there are no false pretenses.

Rising to my toes, I whisper into his ear. “Please behave, okay?”

His head tilts to me, his eyes solidly locking with mine. He smells so… so _divine_. As wild and sweet as a summer storm.

“Is it so hard to believe, Anna, that I may be driven by anything other than bad intentions?”

“No, but… maybe? I don’t know. Don’t freak people out.”

He chuckles lowly, though it sounds like he’s forcing it a little. “You’d be surprised by just how charming I could be, o’Little Prince.”

The door swings open and I steal myself away to the side.

“Trick or treat!” Both Rosie and Jerome blare in unison, as though they’d rehearsed it together.

“Well, now, what do we have here?” An elderly woman says with a kind smile. “Oh, how sweet. A little fox. It’s been many years since these old eyes have seen any foxes frolicking around Gotham!”

Then, her eyes slide over to Jerome, and I can visibly see her smile fade as she gives him a clear once-over. “Aren’t you a little old to be trick-or-treating?”

With childlike innocence, Jerome beams at her. “I’m young at heart, ma’am.”

The woman gives a raspy laugh, genuinely humored. Quickly, however, her laughter ceases as she regards Jerome more carefully. My palms begin to sweat. She’s looking at him as though she recognizes him and _fuck._ I am knowingly letting Jerome Valeska trick-or-treat on Halloween and this is sure to cost me a few years behind bars.

I jump when the woman snaps her fingers together in enlightenment. “Oh, I know who you are!” she says triumphantly. “That psychopath. That _something_ Valeska. Why would you want to dress like him, young man?”

Unhinged, Jerome shrugs loosely. “We have the same red hair. Would’ve been a shame wasted opportunity.”

Chuckling, the woman shakes her head. “You kids with your twisted sense of humor. Back in my day, we kept it clean. When I was a little girl, I dressed up as every mythical creature imaginable year-after-year. Fairies, elves, and mermaids! Oh, how I’d get creative.”

“And no doubt you were a mighty gem to behold,” Jerome adds smoothly, gaining another – more enthusiastic – laugh from her.

“Oh, flattery will get you nowhere! But it will certainly get you some extra candy.”

“Yessss,” Rosie says under her breath, marveling at the handful of candy that gets dumped into her bag. Another handful goes into Jerome’s makeshift sack.

“Now you kids stay out of trouble,” the woman says, wagging a warning finger. “A whole lot of mischief goes on this night.”

“Don’t you worry,” Jerome says, turning to present me with a smug grin. “We promise to be perfect angels.”

The second the door closes, Jerome deposits his earned candy into Rosie’s sack, to which she gasps at how full it’s already looking.

“Told ya I’d give you my winnings, didn’t I?” he tells her.

Astonished, Rosie stares up at him, wide-eyed. “No one just gives away all their candy like that, even if we did make a deal.”

“I’d do anything to get a bit of attention from the people I like,” he says, eyes drifting to me with a knowing smile. “Especially from those I like unconditionally.”

I blush despite my effort not to. “Flattery will get you nowhere, or haven’t you heard?”

Chuckling, he stands to loom over me. Gloved fingers scale up the length of my arm and deftly caress the line of my neck. “It’s done me well so far. Admit it, you’re thrilled to see me tonight.”

Meeting his gaze, I smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His eyes turn dark, a reaction I’m well accustomed to whenever I choose to tease him. Another hand teeters around my waist. He pulls me to him with a swift tug and I brace my hands against his brawny shoulders.

“I already know,” he grunts. “But I want to hear you say it. Tell me you miss me.”

“Good to see your ego is still in healthy shape,” I quip, silently giddy at the irritated expression that crosses his face.

“Cute, Anna. I’m a man who enjoys a challenge, but you are so _exhausting_ to deal with.”

“Yet that doesn’t stop you from seeking me out whenever you get the chance to.”

He growls deeply within his throat. His arm tightens around me, causing my breath to hitch, while the hand at my neck tips my head back ever so slightly.

“Exhausting you may be, but _fun_ you most definitely are.”

He leans into me further and his eyes fix to my lips in a silent promise. Panicked, I push against his shoulders and evade his dawning face.

“Rosie,” I remind him, ignoring the dryness in my throat and the excited sizzle in my veins.

He groans in disappointment, dropping his head dramatically and reluctantly releasing me. Stepping away from him, both Jerome and I look down at the girl regarding us curiously. Her eyes drag from me, to Jerome, and back again while the gears churn in her little head.

“Are you boyfriend-girlfriend?”

I nearly choke on air. “Oh, God, no! Of course not.”

Jerome snickers by my side and I nudge him with my elbow. It does nothing to quiet him down.

Rosie loosely crosses her arms. “He’s not your boyfriend and he’s not your friend… what is he, then?”

Mimicking her stance, Jerome turns to me with folded arms and an arrogant smile. “Yeah, Anna. What is he, then?”

I huff. “A nuisance.”

Rosie stares at me for a long time until, finally, she shakes her head. “I don’t believe you. You like him too much.”

A harsh laugh escapes me faster than I’m able to control it. “Hah! He wishes!”

I shiver when gloved fingers brush the hair away from my face. Jerome draws closer to me; his breath is warm against my ear. “He certainly does, Little Prince. You have no idea.”

I pull back to stare at him dubiously. He lets me, his gentle smile never wavers.

“I like you, Jerome,” Rosie amends, going over to seize his hand again. “Even if Anna doesn’t. I think you’re very nice.”

The grin that overtakes Jerome’s face is the greatest combination of both bewilderment and glee. “Well, that just about made my entire week!” He turns to me, the grin on his face is so brutally honest. “What did I tell you about ‘nice’? It changes everything!”

Once again, I find myself blinking dumbly as I stare at this psychotic criminal in awe. How can a nonsensical man like him make so much sense to me? I could study him for a lifetime and still never find the answers I seek from him, even if he were to write them out to me in plain words.

We stop by two other places for Jerome and Rosie to do their cute-bit and earn more candy than they deserve. I’m not sure what Jerome had in mind when he thought of joining our rounds of trick-or-treating, but I doubt he knew just how capable Rosie is at talking somebody’s ear off, especially if she likes them. Within fifteen minutes, she tells him all about her favorite T.V. shows, her friends whom she’s older than (very important point to her), and her ever growing love for dinosaurs.

There are times when Jerome tries to open a conversation with me, times when he tries to involve me with whatever discussion he’s having with Rosie, but it’s no use. Rosie is on a roll, swinging her hand in his as they walk, laughing at every silly thing Jerome says, and amazingly enough, Jerome never looks annoyed with her.

He throws me a few side-eyes when Rosie talks for too long or when she aggressively pulls him in a certain direction, but he never ignores her excitement, never silences her, and never talks over her. If anything, he all but encourages the prospect of more words flying out of her mouth. It’s rather surreal to witness. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s actually enjoying her company. As for me, I find myself perfectly happy just observing them interact. I never, ever thought I’d see Jerome behave this way, not quite like a child, but like a grown man who speaks their language the way no other adult can.

“Did you know I have a pet fish?” Rosie asks him. “Dad doesn’t let me help clean the fishbowl anymore because last time I filled it up with too much water.”

Jerome gasps in exaggeration. “Did the fish drown?”

Rosie clutches her stomach as she bubbles with laughter.

“I’m my teacher’s favorite student,” she goes on to tell him minutes later. “When she asked what the capital of France is, I was the only one to know the answer. Do you know what it is?”

“Of course I do,” Jerome responds, mockingly conceited. “It’s ‘F’.”

Rosie doubles over laughing with tears brimming her eyes.

I could listen to them for hours.

By the time we had back to Rosie’s apartment building, her speech has considerably slowed down and her eyelids flutter heavily. She still doesn’t release Jerome’s hand as she struggles to carry the weight of her candy-stuffed sack. As though I needed any other reason to be irrationally dazzled by this man, he silently reaches over for her sack and proceeds to carry it for her. He doesn’t do this for show, he doesn’t do this to gain my attention. He does it without thinking, too engrossed in Rosie’s unrelenting slurred speech on why she thinks adults should be able to go trick-or-treating.

“Because it’s not fair,” she declares sleepily. “Just because you grow up doesn’t mean you have to stop being a kid, does it?”

Jerome shrugs. “I’ve never had a reason to stop being a kid. No one does, really.”

A sparkle of hope shines in her eyes. “You mean it?”

“I never lie.”

“Why does Anna act so adult-like if she could choose to be a kid instead?”

Jerome sends me a wicked smile that makes me catch my breath in suspense.

“Because she’s the Little Prince and, like his Majesty, she is on a journey of self-discovery.”

 _God…_ he bugs me so much.

“ _No_ ,” I say, accentuating the word. “People express themselves in different ways, Rosie, but there are times when you can act kid-like and times when you must be mature. It’s not terrible, it’s just the way life runs.”

She hums quietly, shuffling her feet as they drag along. “I like Jerome’s way better.”

Jerome sticks his tongue out to me in victory as though he’s one an imaginary game. My fingers itch with the desire to whack him.

“Come on, Rosie,” I say once we reach her building. “In you go before your mom gets worried.”

The corners of her mouth pull down into a pout. She looks up at Jerome. “Do you want to come inside and see my pet fish?”

“He can’t,” I chip in, not entirely trusting Jerome to say the right answer. “He’s busy… with an appointment.”

Rosie frowns. “On Halloween?”

“Believe it or not. Isn’t that right, Jerome?”

He is _too_ amused. “Mhmm. An overdue appointment to talk some sense into a stubborn girl’s he-"

“Aaaanyway,” I drone in. “Let’s get you inside before your candy goes cold.”

Rosie sighs. “Fine.” Then, she stares up at Jerome with a faint blush to her cheeks. “Thank you for giving me all your candy.”

Jerome grins. “No thanks needed. We made a deal.”

“Can I ask you something… a secret?” she says tentatively, avoiding eye contact with me as I stare at her in disbelief.

For a moment, Jerome stands perfectly still, seemingly not knowing how to respond. A brief look of uncertainty glosses over his face before he bends down to her. Rosie cups her small hand around his ear and whispers something I can’t hear. I watch in fascination as the uncertainty melts away and his eyes brighten with undeniable delight. When the girl pulls away, Jerome responds by whispering an answer back into her ear. Whatever he tells her makes her smile widen and then, before I can even register what’s happened, she sets a quick kiss to his scarred cheek. Dumbstruck, Jerome watches as she takes her sack from him and moves towards her building.

“Bye, Anna!” she calls to me as I, too, stare after her dumbly. “Thank you for taking me out today. See you next week!”

Long after she closes the door, Jerome and I stare at it while our thoughts buffer. Then, slowly, I turn to him with a dozen questions needing to be asked. He smirks at me like he already knows what I’m thinking.

“What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m practically irresistible.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of tooting your own horn all the time?”

“Why? Would you like to toot it for me instead?”

I scowl at him while he laughs, hissing through his teeth.

“What did she ask you?”

Straightening up, Jerome quirks a brow. “Don’t think I can tell you. She said it was a secret.”

I clench my teeth. “Jerome…” I warn. “Is it something she’ll run and tell her mother about that could potentially get me in trouble?”

“Worry, worry, worry, that’s all you do,” he says, poking a sturdy finger into my forehead with each “worry”.

Growling, I shove his hand away. “Is it something worrisome or not?”

“Like talking to a brick wall,” he says under his breath, rolling his eyes. “She asked me to take her trick-or-treating next year. That’s all.”

I facepalm. “Of course she did, and of course you said ‘yes’, judging by how joyful she looked. God! Why did I let you join us today!”

Chuckling softly, he lowers my hand and hooks his finger under my chin. “Because you miss me.”

“Like listening to a broken record,” I grumble.

“A broken record you miss listening to.”

Irritated, I pull away from him. “Stop trying to be funny. You cannot show up here next year to take that little girl trick-or-treating, alright?”

Jerome casts me a dry look. “Relax, Mother Hen. I told her I’d take her with His Majesty’s permission. You know I wouldn’t do anything behind your back, don’t you, Anna?”

“You better not, or else I’ll be inclined to start stalking you too.”

Jerome bends over his knees as he laughs heartily. I can’t resist the smile that creeps onto my lips until I, too, eventually join in with him. He pisses me off so effortlessly and, somehow, I end up laughing with him no matter how hard I try not to.

“Oh, Anna, how I wish you wouldn’t take yourself so seriously all the time. You ought to laugh like this some more. It’ll do you wonders.”

“I’m not serious all the time.”

Unconvinced, his eyebrow arches. “That so? Then go up to one of those houses and yell ‘trick-or-treat!’.”

I hold his gaze. “No.”

“Lame,” he coughs into his fist.

“I’m not lame! It’s too late now. No one’s expecting trick-or-treaters anymore.”

“I am. Say it to me.”

I laugh, thinking he would join me, but he doesn’t. Crossing his arms, he waits for me expectantly.

“What, you meant it?”

“I always mean what I say, Anna.”

“Bullshit.”

He smirks. “Not tonight. Come on, Little Prince, prove that you know how to be not-lame.”

_Ugh._

“I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

“Prove it to yourself then.”

 _Oooofff_. He just makes me so angry. He knows exactly how to get under my skin and damnit it’s so easy for him!

Grinding my teeth, I take a long inhale and release it slowly.

“Trick or treat,” I say begrudgingly.

Pursing his lips, Jerome shakes his head. “Can’t hear you when you’re whispering like that.”

“Trick or treat!”

“Better. Now with more enthusiasm.”

“Jerome,” I whine.

“What’s that? Was that the complaint of a lame girl?”

My blood furiously boils. “Trick or treat!”

“Doesn’t sound like you mean it.”

“I’ll wake people up.”

“Like you mean it!”

“TRICK OR TREAT, YOU JERK.”

All at once, before I can even think, Jerome pulls me into a bruising kiss that quickly defuses the anger simmering inside me. This feels so… _familiar_. So _wonderful_. His hands bunch the material of my costume around my waist as he holds me close. Despite its abrupt start, it’s a gentle kiss, allowing me the time to grasp what had just happened in my own time. Eventually, my arms wrap around his neck as I let myself lean into him, diving into his riveting scent and indulging in his delicious taste.

It’s him who pulls away, red-lipped and smug-looking. “Trick,” he says chuckling, booping his nose with mine and making a blush ride up my back. “And here’s treat.” He releases me to dig around the front pocket of his blouse. Retrieving a blue lollipop, he holds it out to me. Confused, I untangle an arm from his neck to take it.

“How… Did you steal this from Rosie?”

Jerome chuckles. “That would’ve just been mean. No, I stole it from an unattended sack. Don’t worry, no one we know.”

I should be angry, but that kiss has sort of calmed the angry fire in my stomach. All I do is smile at that lollipop while I shake my head helplessly.

“You’re impossible.”

“Thank you,” he says, and then his smile gradually begins to wane. “I know you enjoy the boring adult life, but it’s dangerous to forget what it’s like to be a kid. Just takes all the fun out of living. It’s okay to go trick-or-treating if you want to, even if people look at you funny.”

Wrapping my arm around his neck again, I grin. “Aren’t you the sudden wiseman. Looks like you have it in you to talk like an adult.”

“I’m a man of many talents.”

Laughing, I lean into him to lightly press my lips to his. Jerome hums against me, tightening his hold around me until he’s nearly carrying my weight for me. It has truly been too long since I’ve last seen him. I’ve forgotten how much fun he is, how much he brightens my day and rids me of the daily boring routines. I don’t think I could ever turn him away whenever he decides to give me a surprise visit. Even if I fight back at first, his scarred face is a welcoming sight I dare not ignore.

“Hey, Jerome,” I say, pulling back to rest my forehead against his. “I’ve missed you.”

His eyes remain closed, but the largest, toothiest grin crawls onto his face. “Tell me something I _don’t_ know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had *too* much fun writing this. Hope you had fun reading it too!
> 
> Don't be strangers and comment on what you thought of this short story!


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